


it's a natural corollary

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I guess?? im sleepy lol, M/M, cheerleader n jock au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Atsumu is heading to class one moment, and then the next he’s seeing Hinata Shouyou standing at his locker with that peppy, thousand-kilowatt smile that was probably bequeathed to him by some divine angel of old.Okay, so record-scratch. Freeze-frame.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Kudos: 79
Collections: Anonymous





	it's a natural corollary

It all begins with a suggestion from Osamu, for better or for worse.

“No,” Atsumu says, giving his brother a pointed glare, because, like, it’s a terrible idea, and fuck Osamu for taking advantage of the Thing Atsumu admitted last night.

“Why not?” Osamu rolls his eyes. He gestures vaguely. “You’re available. Your special somebody is available. What’s there to contemplate?”

Atsumu should really stop telling Osamu things. Because nothing Osamu ever says has actually proven to be helpful to his situation. What happened last night should’ve stayed strictly on the DL, but no, Atsumu had to run his mouth ad nauseam. Although, to be fair, everyone else said it had been painfully obvious for months now, totally a thing that could be easily discerned by anyone with a working pair of eyes.

“He’s not my special somebody,” Atsumu murmurs, annoyed, and the response he gets is a snicker from the corner of the room. Suna. Honestly, Atsumu had forgotten his presence.

“Yes he fucking is,” Suna says, in his “you can’t fight me, bro” voice. He’s idly toying with his phone in such a way that reminds Atsumu it’s more likely than not he’s got a shit ton of receipts no amount of denials will be able to disprove. It’s sort of Suna’s specialty. Hoarding information so that he can present it as proof during the most opportune “gotcha” moments. No one does the job better.

It’s ridiculously annoying. But - whatever. Some things, you just gotta live with. And this is one of them.

Atsumu crosses his arms over his chest. He hopes his glare has the intensity of a thousand burning suns. “It’s still not happening. Nope. No.”

Suna and Osamu exchange glances. Not good. They’re up to something. Conspiring, most likely. 

“Dumb jock,” is all Suna says in the next moment, but it absolutely does not alleviate any concerns Atsumu has in any capacity whatsoever.

* * *

What happens the next day goes exactly according to what he predicted.

Atsumu is heading to class one moment, and then the next he’s seeing Hinata Shouyou standing at his locker with that peppy, thousand-kilowatt smile that was probably bequeathed to him by some divine angel of old.

Okay, so record-scratch. Freeze-frame.

Maybe he’s imagining things. Yeah, that’s probably the case. Practice was rough this morning. That fucking forward roll tripped him up. 

Atsumu blinks. The image remains. So no: this is all real life, playing out in high definition, 1080p, 100 frames per second, hypothesis disproved.

It’s noon, and he’s a little tired, slow on the uptake, so at first the why of the matter comes to mind. Because it’s a natural thing to wonder about, Hinata Shouyou hanging out around his locker, when they haven’t spoken much at all, but then of course the thunderbolt strikes, the pieces fall into place, and at the heart of it all there’s only one possible explanation.

Osamu, that liar. After he graciously insisted he wouldn’t meddle any further. But that was Atsumu’s first mistake, trusting his brother. This one is on him. Atsumu also has another lesson to learn. AMP and edibles don’t mix, unless he doesn’t mind the deliria-induced haze of spouting three am soliloquies on life’s greatest grievances. 

“Hey,” Hinata says brightly, leaning lazily against Atsumu’s locker. “Osamu told me you’d be willing to help me out with my chem work. Just at the right time, too. There’s like this test I have coming up in a week, soooo glad you could help.”

Hinata Shouyou is one of the two male cheerleaders in this school. By virtue of him being well, a guy, one would have thought he’d be made fun of or something, but that simply wasn’t the case. Within a week of joining the team, he quickly became one of the most popular students in the entirety of the school, and it’s been that way ever since. Honestly, it’s hardly a surprise, because yeah, he’s fucking cute. And a total people person. People are just drawn to him. It’s like a gravitational field effect. Get within his orbit, and you’d find it impossible to leave.

“Of course,” Atsumu says smoothly, putting on a very winsome smile that he hopes is sufficient enough to cover what’s really going on in his mind.

All systems are fully operational. But they’re on fire. Operational, yes, but still - they’re on fire. He’s like screwed, by every variation of the definition. Pina coladas is playing somewhere, and maybe he’s in a movie right now. Playing it by ear, ad-libbing as the script unravels. The director isn’t looking too happy about this - goddamn it, Atsumu is doing a poor job of following routine - so it’s a natural outcome he wants to cut the cameras, restart the scene, time is money, but the thing is, this is no Hallmark film, it’s real life. There are no take-backs, do-overs, rehearsals. No preliminary anything. It’s just pure you get what you get.

After they decide on a time and place to meet up and get the work done, they part ways for the day. The place where they’re going to meet up doesn’t even register until much later on, when Atsumu is nodding off in World 1020 and then - 

His eyes snap open. Oh shit.

* * *

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” Hinata apologizes, scratching his head sheepishly as he nudges aside a stack of books. “Hopefully this is passable.”

A bit of a mess. Atsumu gives the room another sweeping look. If this is Hinata’s idea of a dirty place, Atsumu might as well be living in a trash can. Because it’s really orderly in here. Neat. His bed is made up, there is hardly any paraphernalia to be found, and it all just smells really good in here - not to sound weird.

“Are you kidding me? You’d probably run away if you saw my place,” Atsumu says, settling down on Hinata’s swivel chair, and then lightly spinning around like he isn’t combusting on the inside. 

Really, he isn’t. Earlier on, he ran some diagnostics on the situation. He’ll get over this. Hinata is hot, and his thighs look wondrous, but that’s shallow thinking. It’s all in his head. So what if it’s unavoidable that he gets to see Hinata practice three days out of seven? So what if he’s been unable to forget that said image of Hinata, and that he’s stayed awake because of it for the past three months? Exercising a bit of discipline would clearly go a long way.

They start on the work Atsumu is supposed to be helping Hinata out on. And it’s really dull. His voice and mind might as well be two separate entities, at this point. One is being reasonable, and the other still has fucking pina coladas on repeat. A whole universe of songs out there, and it had to be this one. He can’t even trust himself. Pathetic.

At some point, Atsumu started talking about hybrid orbitals, but then his stream of consciousness did not get the memo.

And at some point, Hinata ended up lying down on his bed, face lightly scrunched up in concentration.

Atsumu takes in a deep breath. He’s got this. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be worked up. He. Just. Needs. To. Play. It. Cool.

He shuts his eyes. Counts to ten. When he opens his eyes, all will be fine. He’s absolutely not thinking of Hinata wearing a cheerleader outfit, of course not. If he did, his soul would leave his body. Shrivel up in the astral plane from shame and humiliation.

Atsumu opens his eyes. Okay, so assessment from earlier on? That was fucking bullshit to the nth degree. No way is he going to be able to just get over it, for the same reason that a forest fire doesn’t just burn out. No - a fire that size’ll only grow in magnitude. Especially when the conditions are optimal. It’s a natural corollary.

What happens next comes unbidden.

It’s just a thought. Not a dream - a thought. And in this thought Atsumu has completely abandoned all pretenses of playing at being teacher. The visuals kick off with him kissing Hinata, because that’s the only thing he wants to do right now, point now. 

God, Atsumu should stop. Hinata is right in front of him. It feels so, so, so wrong, imagining Hinata’s hands on him, his fingers tangled in his hair, his voice saying Atsumu’s name -

“I’m stuck on this question,” Hinata says, breaking the immersion, and Atsumu blinks, loopy for a moment.

Because right. That’s what he’s here for. Studying. Not indulging in hormone-fuelled fantasies. That, he could do another time. Preferably in the comforts of his own home, where there’s zero chance of Hinata deciphering his body language.

But it’s honestly really hard to stop, Atsumu thinks, as he leans in to see whatever Hinata has done wrong. Especially if this arrangement repeats itself. Which it probably will.

And who knows, maybe it’ll be a real thing.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I Cannot put this on main because I will die from shame, this is my raw writing when I am Not Thinking


End file.
